Ever After
by Emerald
Summary: Ethan and Theresa get their fairytale ending. But something Ethan never thought he would do will tear his family apart and test true love.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

_  
I know you're gone  
I know you're leaving me  
Behind your dreams  
Behind your prayers  
What do you think?  
What do you want?  
What do you love?  
What do you love?_

- [Jessica Riddle – Gone]

______

How do you hurt someone you love? How do you move on after seeing them fall apart for something you did? Is it simple? Or will facing them kill you in the process?

I wish I could say that I had an excuse. I wish I had some explanation short of weakness and temptation. But, now, I realize that there is no excuse for hurting the love of your life.

Now, as she looked at me with more heartbreak in her eyes than I had ever seen before, I knew that I had destroyed a part of her soul; I was responsible for the light that had just gone out inside of her. I killed her.

Her eyes were cold as if she'd been looking through glasses made of ice. The warmth I always felt when I looked at her was gone. But it wasn't hatred that had replaced it. It was disappointment. I had promised myself to her. She had given me her heart willingly and I was supposed to protect it. Instead, I carelessly misplaced it, not caring what happened to it. And when I went back to retrieve it, it was mangled and destroyed—much too late to fix it.

Is sorry enough? Can it encompass the deep regret and remorse I feel? No matter how many times I say it, no matter how many tears fall from my eyes, it hurts more to try to apologize because I know there is nothing that can be done. The clock won't go back. I will not get the hours of betrayal back.

_I'm sorry._

And she closes her eyes and turns away as if I'd just insulted her. And maybe I have. There is nothing that can be said now. There is nothing I can do to makeup for what I've done.

My eyes stare back at me from the small copy of Theresa's face. Jane eyes me as if she can feel the tension between her parents. I don't know how to answer her unspoken questions. I don't know how to tell her that her father is a terrible man. How do you look in a baby's face and tell her the truth? How do you rip apart a family?

It doesn't matter how. I did it anyway.

"Say goodbye to your daddy, Janey," Theresa coos into Jane's ear.

Just as she says it, I feel something slip from inside my chest. The blond curls bounce as the baby looks up to me. Her eyes are mine, her face is Theresa's. She is ours. She is part of us—together.

Theresa passes the toddler over into my arms and her weight is nothing. She turns back to her mother as if knowing what I had done to her family. I try to get her to look at me, but for some reason she continues to avoid my eyes.

Theresa watched us, her eyes suddenly tearing with the image of our daughter in my arms. She looked down to hide her pain and the guilt hit me even harder. Jane squirmed in my arms and I tried to calm her down. Was it that she was angry at me? Or did she suddenly prefer to be held by her mother? I held her tighter to me and kissed her soft cheek. Then she turned to me with questions in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby," I told her softly. "I love you, Jane. I love you so much." And she just stared at me.

"Ok," Theresa said finally. "We have to go, Ethan." Hearing her words, I still didn't turn to her and continued looking at Jane. "Little Ethan," Theresa called. Then I looked up in search of my son. He sat across the playground on the side of the sandbox, his feet kicking woodchips. "Little Ethan, come over here," she called again. "Come say goodbye to your father."

He got up and walked towards us with his head down and his hands in his pockets. Theresa reached into my arms and took the baby from my hold without a word. Jane went willingly and it was like an arrow being shot into my heart. Little Ethan reached us and stood next to his mother, his eyes down at the mess of scraped wood below his shoes.

"I'll give you a minute," Theresa whispered as she took my daughter to the other side of the playground by the swing set.

Little Ethan still refused to look up at me. We stood, two men at an awkward point of life. I knelt down on one knee to better see his face and then he looked up to me. His face was tearstained, his eyes were red. He was the opposite of Jane—his face was mine and his eyes were Theresa's. It suddenly hurt me more to see such pain in Theresa's brown eyes… and he was my son and I was the reason he was crying. We stared at each other, eyes sending different messages. His: How could you? Mine: I'm so sorry.

"I'm sorry… I am _so_ sorry, Little Ethan." More tears silently fell down to the cheeks that were slimming down in baby fat everyday. "I love you. You know that."

"What about mom?" he cried.

"Of course I do. I love your mother very much." More tears fell down his face even quicker than before. "I love her with all of my heart. Just like I love you and your sister."

He nodded and turned back down to the woodchips. "Then why are you leaving us?!"

How do you tell your son that you've broken your family? How do you look him in the eye and tell him that you betrayed his mother? How do you stop his tears? How do you go on after breaking the only good thing you ever knew?

"I'm so sorry, Little Ethan. But your mommy and I … we just need some time apart for a little while." He turned back down again. "But—but, hey," I turned his chin back up, "I'll still be there to drive you to school everyday. And I'll still go to all of your baseball games. And you and Jane will come stay with me every other weekend, ok? I'm not going anywhere. I promise." I had to turn his face back up to me. I smiled despite the grief I felt at having to leave him.

"We'll be a family again, right? One day, we'll all be together again?"

I didn't know what to say to his hopeful suggestion. I wanted to say yes more than anything. I wanted to believe that everything would be forgiven and we'd all be able to go home together again. I simply smiled at him and hoped that he wouldn't see through the shaky façade I had.

"Yeah," I sighed. "One day."

"Do you promise?"

I thought about the possibility then. What if Theresa came running to me with her arms open and ready to take me back into her life?

"Yeah… I promise."

For the first time in days, I saw Little Ethan smile. He fell into me in an embrace and hugged me tight. At his sudden happiness, I felt like I wanted to die. He was so happy and it hurt me to know that I wasn't sure of what I said.

He pulled back with his smile. "I love you, dad," he said quickly.

"I love you, too."

"Little Ethan! Come on, honey," Theresa called.

I looked over to half my family and then back to the boy in front of me. "Mom's calling." He nodded. "Go on. I'll see you soon."

Little Ethan wiped his eyes and then nodded again. "And we'll be a family again soon, right?"

I hoped that he didn't know notice the way I hesitated or how I looked down before I answered him. "Yeah," I said as I turned back towards Theresa.

He smiled and hugged me once more and then he ran towards his mother. As I stood up and watched my family walk away, I prayed that I could keep my promise to Little Ethan. But as I saw Theresa turn back to me with a fleeting look of anger, I wondered if I had just lied to my son and if that promise would go unfulfilled. I waved my hand at Little Ethan and Jane and silently said goodbye to Theresa. She turned away and continued walking with our children and I was left standing in a pile of wood chips all alone.

______


	2. Perfection

_**Chapter 1: **_**Perfection**

"Can you believe it?" Theresa said with a sigh.

Ethan pulled her closer and kissed her temple. "What?"

"This," Theresa said as she spread her arms out and pointed around their bedroom. "Finally, we're here, Ethan. We have everything we ever wanted." Ethan smiled. "You. Me. Together. It's like a dream…" She smiled up at him and he tilted her chin to meet his lips with hers.

"You are my dream."

Within minutes, their bodies were one again. Never could they tire of one another. Every bend of Ethan's muscles, every smooth expanse of skin, every deep breath he took set her alive again. And all Ethan needed were Theresa's eyes and he could be happy for the rest of his life. With them open or shut, he was complete in them.

"You know, we can't keep doing this, Theresa," Ethan breathed quickly, his chest still trying to keep up with his rushing heart.

"What? Enjoying the most intense passion all night long?" she asked before she kissed him again.

"Ah," he laughed. "All night long being the operative term, here, Mrs. Winthrop. How am I ever going to get through the day when all I can think about is sleep?"

Theresa pouted like a three year old that wasn't quite sure how cute she looked with her lip sticking out. "Well," she began, "maybe I can give you something _else_ to think about, then."

Then Ethan felt her hand snake down his torso to where it took hold of him. He wasn't expecting her touch and it electrified him. His muscles began to tense and his breathing quickened just when it had started to slow. Theresa's hand grew tighter, pulling and squeezing him relentlessly until his eyes couldn't stay open anymore. She watched his face and took pleasure in the way he sucked his bottom lip behind his teeth. Wincing as if in pain, Ethan clenched his brow and held his eyes shut.

Theresa leaned close to his throat. "How's this? Taking your mind off sleep a little?" Ethan wasn't able to speak anymore. He simply nodded his concurrence. Then Theresa let go and stared at him, waiting for his visual response. "What if I stop?"

Ethan's eyes shot open and he turned to her, this time his eyes really in pain. Without a word, he pulled her to him and explored her mouth with his tongue.

"You're going to be late for work," Theresa said against his mouth. Ethan quieted her with his lips. "Again."

"Don't care," he mumbled as he rolled over her.

And they stopped all talking for the next hour.

______

"You're late," Ethan's blonde assistant reprimanded with the light tone she always had.

Ethan finished his sip from his coffee cup. "I know. I know. Sorry, Rand. It could not be helped."

She watched him walk into his office with a smile and hated seeing how happy he was. It wasn't normal for a couple to stay as happy as long as they had. "You know," she said as she followed him into his office, "the honeymooning period is only supposed to last three months."

Ethan set down his briefcase and circled his desk. "We like to go into overtime," he smirked as he took another drink. And then he got flashes of just how he and Theresa had pushed him to being late… for the second time that week, and the sixth time that month.

"Spare me the details," Miranda protested, her hands up in defense.

"Sorry," he laughed. "I'll try." He turned his attention to his desk and noticed the folders she's set down for him. "Am I still meeting with Morrison?"

She cringed as she checked her watch. "Yeah, he'll be here in about thirty-five minutes. You would have had longer to review the files if you had been here on time."

Again Ethan laughed. "I'll yell at Theresa for you."

"Ugh." And Miranda stepped out of his office for fear that she'd gag. It just wasn't normal for two people to be so happy. Maybe they had something special; maybe they were the ones that figured out the secret to eternal bliss. Whatever it was, there was only one thing Miranda knew for sure: she craved it in her own life.

"Hello, hello, hello," greeted a deep voice. "Where is he?" Ethan heard from the lobby.

Miranda was in Ethan's doorway within seconds. "Morrison's here." Her voice was dripping with overwhelming enthusiasm.

There was a slapping sound as Morrison smacked Miranda's behind. She jumped and did her best not to punch him in the face. He was a tall man, too young to have already started balding, but yet full of extreme confidence that no doubt stemmed from his bank account.

"Nice to see you, Rand," Morrison said as he passed her. "Very nice."

Ethan apologized with his eyes to his assistant and stood to take Morrison's hand. Miranda gave Morrison the look of the death before closing the door behind her.

"Mi-RAND-A!" Morrison pressed. "You're a lucky man, Ethan. Lucky man…"

"Uh… yes, please, have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?" Ethan asked, hoping to change the subject.

"That depends," Morrison replied as he took his seat opposite Ethan's desk. "Is that hot assistant of yours going to bring it in?" He winked.

Ethan wasn't sure what to say. It was men like Morrison that he'd vowed his entire life to never become—men just like Julian Crane. "Um, well, actually… Listen, sorry," he said, quickly changing the subject. "I wasn't able to review the case files. I wasn't expecting you this early…"

Morrison waved his hand. "Oh, don't worry. I was just across the street and I thought I'd stop by since I was here anyway." Ethan nodded his understanding. "I picked up this cute redhead last night at The Blue Note." He punched the air excitedly. "Man! Redheads really are _fiery_!"

Ethan stared at the man with his mouth open, not believing that he could be such a pig. "Oh, well, that's nice." Ethan smiled and turned his attention down to the files on his desk.

"And what about you?" Morrison asked. "Pick up anything fun lately?" Morrison winked again.

The thought of what he was insinuating was beginning to make Ethan physically sick. He couldn't imagine being with anyone else but Theresa. She completed him in every way. She was the only one he'd ever made love to—besides Gwen—and he knew that he wasn't missing anything else. She was all he wanted.

"You do know that I am married, right?" Ethan defended.

"Meaning? How many married men do you know that haven't had a little piece on the side from time to time?"

"I'm not like that," Ethan said firmly.

Morrison laughed to himself. "Give yourself some time, kid. You've only been married, what? Two or three months?" He stared back at Ethan as he waited for a response. Ethan's eyes glared back in response.

"Four."

"Exactly," Morrison claimed. "Four months isn't enough to judge. Trust me, kid. Your eyes will start to wander soon enough."

Ethan refuted the idea in his mind, quickly deciding that he could never want anyone but Theresa. Since the day he'd met her, she was the only thing he knew he wanted for the rest of his life.

"Is this her?" Morrison asked, pointing to a photo on Ethan's desk. It was the picture of the two of them on their wedding day—the happiest day of his life. Finally, after eight years, they were together; years of pain were over. "Man," Morrison gasped. "She is a looker. I wouldn't want to pass her up too quickly, either. Never pegged you as a Latina lover. I always figured you for the tall blonds, you know…?" He whistled his appreciation of Theresa's beauty. "I bet she's a good time… Feisty. Is she feisty?"

Ethan was suddenly uncomfortable. "Can we just get back to the case, please, Morrison?" Upset that a pig like Morrison was fantasizing about his wife, Ethan had to tell himself to calm down. Still, he was filled with pride that he was married to a woman that other men fantasized about. And then he found his thoughts drawn to the smoothness of her skin, the sweetness of her scent, the roundness of her curves, and the sound of her moans as she writhed beneath his naked body.

______

"I'm all done for the day," Miranda announced as she peeked around Ethan's doorway. "So if there's nothing else…?"

"Get out of here, Rand," Ethan said as he looked up from the deposition he was reading.

She smiled. "Thanks. Night."

"Night." The phone rang and Miranda made to reach for it. "Ah, ah, ah." Ethan gestured her away from the phone. "Go home, Rand."

With a smile and without another word, Miranda left the office.

"Sanford, Winthrop, and Myles. Ethan Winthrop," he greeted as he pressed the phone against his shoulder.

"Are you alone?" the sultry voice spoke on the other side of the phone.

Ethan smiled. "Yes."

"So am I."

Ethan settled back in his chair, dropping his paperwork. "Well, what should I do about that?"

Theresa chuckled. "I don't know what _you_ can do, but I have this new dress that I feel like wearing. It's short… black… lace… tight… I was kind of hoping that you'd help me take it off …"

Her suggestion filled him with adrenaline. "I'm leaving right now."

Then there was a knock on his door. "Hey, Ethan," dark and handsome Kyle Sanford interrupted.

Ethan looked up, his chest spinning in fallen excitement. "Oh, hey, Kyle. What's up?"

"Hey, a few of us are going down to Morgan's Pub with Watson. You ready?"

Just as Ethan was about to say yes, he remembered the person on the other line of the phone that was still pressed against his ear. "Umm… I… uh… I don't think I can tonight. Maybe some other time," he said in his most apologetic voice.

Kyle looked like his was physically pained. "You can't be serious," he said with a feigned smile on his lips. "C'mon, Ethan. Watson's making partner. You can't sit here and do work while we celebrate him getting into your firm."

Ethan thought about that for a minute and suddenly felt guilty. He knew Kyle was right. There was no excuse to not go out with the guys to celebrate Watson's integration of partner.

"Ok," he said, defeated. "Give me a minute?"

Kyle knocked on the doorway and smiled. "We'll wait for you downstairs."

Ethan waited until he was sure that Kyle wasn't in listening proximity before he turned his attention back to the phone. "I think I'm going to have to take a rain check…," he said with the same apologetic tone he'd just given Kyle.

Theresa let out a disappointed breath. "Yeah, I heard. That's ok. There's always tomorrow night," she hinted.

Ethan smiled, his mind already traveling back to the contours of her body. "There's always later tonight."

"Oooh," she played cooed with him. "Well, don't keep me waiting too long."

Ethan laughed, already planning to skip out on the bar scene as soon as he could to get home to his wife. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Don't be too late."

Hanging up, Ethan regretted having to take a drink with his partners when all he wanted to do was go home and wrap his arms around Theresa. He wanted to be next to her, feel her skin against his, and wake up looking into her eyes knowing that there was nothing better for him in the world.

Sighing deeply, all he could do was look forward to going home. Picking up his jacket by the door, Ethan turned off all the lights and headed downstairs. Kyle, Dave Myles, and Peter Watson were waiting for him just outside the lobby.

"Finish up with that deposition," Dave asked.

Ethan shrugged. "Not really. I'll just finish it up later." His frown wasn't hard to miss.

"Don't worry," Kyle said as he slapped Ethan's back. "She'll be waiting for you when you get home."


End file.
